


At the Core

by calliette



Category: Huge
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliette/pseuds/calliette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will has to make some big decisions about the future of CORE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the Core

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psocoptera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psocoptera/gifts).



> This is just a quick, unpolished piece written on Christmas morning, so my apologies for any errors and hope you enjoy :)

After the funeral, Will climbed over the gate at the end of the cemetery and scuffed her far-too-formal shoes along the trail that ran along side. She did not look at Becca, did not invite her to follow her, but though Becca often found explaining people close to impossible, in their five years of friendship she had come to know Will almost inside out.

At the service Becca had positioned herself by the door, ready to catch Will if she escaped from her front row seat wedged between cousins and aunts. Somehow Will had got through without railing at everything from the use of the long form of her name to the very idea of the existence of God (Will tolerated Becca’s pagan beliefs, but Christianity was an absolute no) but by the end Becca could tell she was ready to explode.

“So I’m inheriting CORE...” Will gave a half chuckle that sounded more macabre than amused. “Apparently the discussion of what I’m going to do couldn’t wait until the will was officially read. Not til after the funeral even.”

“I’m sorry... What are your options?”

“One, I can nominate someone to manage it on my behalf, and I rake in a shitload of money from making people feel like crap about their bodies. Two, I can sell it - it will just be a one of subscription to body fascism on my conscience, not an ongoing sell out. Three I can burn the whole fucking lot of them down but I won’t be able to claim on the insurance because it will look too suspicious. Four, I can close them down, use the broken ends of ellipticals to stab my enemies and convert them into, I don’t know, radical community centres...”

“Will...” They were sitting on a patch of grass, Will still not looking at her friend but pulling up blades of grass and twisting them round her fingers. “Remember when we first met at camp, that summer, and how much you found you enjoyed shooting hoops...”

Will had to look at Becca in order to show she was rolling her eyes.

“It’s just that you could change it. You could make it a more friendly place - think how hard it is for people like us to go to a gym and explain that we want exercise, not to lose half our body mass...”

“Becca. We can’t change attitudes that are so built into our society just by carving out one tiny space. And can you imagine the trainers going for it. I... I... Becca, I just don’t know any more.”

It didn’t surprise Becca to see her friend crying, but it did surprise Will.

“Crying’s a sign of weakness and defeat,” Will muttered angrily, clinging to her friend.

Becca laughed gently and stroked Will’s hair. “You’re allowed to feel defeated just for one day. There’s so much fighting ahead of you, don’t you worry.”


End file.
